


And a Coffee for the Demon, Please

by ffvside



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Coffee Shops, Eye Mouth, Fluff, Love Bites, M/M, Older Dipper Pines, Triangle Bill Cipher, a coffee shop au only not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-11-12 08:15:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11157870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ffvside/pseuds/ffvside
Summary: Dipper has never really been one for wearing scarves.





	And a Coffee for the Demon, Please

Normally, heading outside bundled up during a Gravity Falls winter was nothing more than common sense. The little town’s weather patterns operated independently of the rest of the state, sticking with its tradition of making no sense at all. The twins were used to the relatively mild winters of California, in which short sleeves were not out of the question. Even when they'd moved away from Gravity Falls, though, its little bubble of cold had seemed to follow them; not that they had listened. Because of that, Dipper wasn't the most responsible person when it came to dressing for the weather. So, when he started towards the door with a scarf wrapped around his neck, Mabel stopped him.

"...Dipper? You're wearing a scarf." she pointed out, eyebrows raised, squinting at him from their breakfast table. Dipper stopped in the doorway, glancing over his shoulder. 

"Yeah? It's cold outside." he pointed out. He shifted the scarf on his neck. Mabel narrowed her eyes at him even more.

"You're never responsible! I have to nag you to get you to even wear a jacket. Which is something you should have on, by the way." Dipper opened his mouth, trying to figure out a flaw in her argument, then stopped when he saw the knitted beginnings of yet another fuzzy, heavy-duty sweater in her lap.  _Damn it._

"It's not cold enough for that yet. Can't I just wear a scarf?" Needless to say, his sister wasn't buying it, given his history of a complete lack of self-preservation. He managed not to fidget as he was subjected to her stare.

"Dipper, are you hiding hickies? Because there's makeup for that-"  
  
And that signaled the end of the conversation, at least on his end. Dipper heard quiet laughter from beneath the scarf and forced out a cough to cover it up. "Okay, bye Mabel, text me if you decide you want coffee!" He almost tripped over the stoop in his haste to escape. A string of laughter came from under his scarf as soon as the door closed behind him.

"Real smooth, Pine Tree. You almost would have been  _more_  smooth if you'd told her you had a dream demon hidden under it!" Bill laughed in the same high, less-than-sane cadence as usual, clearly thinking that he was fucking hilarious. Dipper had to take a second to remind himself why throwing his tiny triangle boyfriend was a bad idea.

"You want coffee or not? Because you're like a sentence away from not getting coffee." he replied wryly. Almost immediately, Bill's tone changed, and he could feel two tiny hands grip his collar in a pleading gesture under the scarf.

"Oh, please, Dipper. Did I ever mention how you're my favorite? Perfect name, too, pretty as the stars. And as  _hot_  as one, too, yowza-" He broke off when he noticed Dipper giving him a deadpan stare. "Too much?"

"Very." Bill, again, backed down relatively quickly. He'd lived for millennia, had orchestrated terrible things with a wave of his hand, and yet he yielded to Dipper of all people. Now that his newly discovered love of caffeine was at stake, it made sense.

"Alright, fine." the triangle grumbled, letting go of Dipper's collar as they, or rather he, walked. "Coffee's still on the table, though, right? Haven't completely shot that one in the foot yet?" He sounded so hopeful that the human relented a little bit. As much as he liked messing with him, he didn't want to crush his dreams entirely.

“Coffee’s still on the table. You’re lucky I like you. Technically, you should be the one buying me things. You know, to pay off the years of therapy Weirdmageddon made me go through?” Dipper replied as he walked towards the car. It was said off the cuff, easily passed off as a joke if Bill wanted it to be. While Weirdmageddon had messed him up, the positive things that followed had outweighed the horrors. Stan regaining his memory, their grunkles getting over years of animosity, the peace that had been a long time coming…In some bizarre, twisted way, he supposed Bill deserved a thank you. His disastrous idea had done a lot for fixing what was broken. Luckily, Bill chose not to get into a heavy conversation just then, shifting under the scarf as Dipper slid into the driver’s seat.

“Nice try. I know you hate therapists.” Dipper started the car, raising an eyebrow. He was always sort of surprised when Bill remembered something about him. It wasn’t that he thought the other didn’t listen, but Bill was so old that he’d figured facts about himself wouldn’t have been very important to retain. It was true, though; therapists made his skin crawl. He always felt like he was acting as their personal science experiment, and meetings had actually made his anxiety spike rather than helping. Needless to say, he’d been to only a handful before bowing out.

“Yeah, yeah. Behave while I drive, alright?” Bill had a tendency to complain when not actively given attention. The scarf had been his idea in the first place. Dipper had pointed out that Bill could have just met him outside, but he’d eventually given in. Bill was nothing if not clingy. It was like he had never really grasped the concept of personal space…which did sort of make sense, given that he’d literally possessed Dipper’s body before. _Weird._ Dipper shook his head and managed to disregard it while driving.

Mercifully, the drive was a quiet and reasonably calm one. The most Dipper noticed was the soft snapping of tiny fingers from under the scarf when a Spice Girls song came on. He managed to hold back his snickers, albeit just barely. The apartment he rented with Mabel was in the middle of Portland, but Dipper’s (and, by extension, Bill’s) favorite coffee shop was on the outskirts of town. He’d wanted to stay in the state because, even as the years passed, he’d kept finding things in Gravity Falls that he wanted to study. Even just the woods behind the Shack were ripe with supernatural creatures.

He pulled into the parking lot, tugging the scarf away to glance down at Bill as he parked the car. The demon had closed his eye at some point, looking half-asleep. Dipper’s lips turned up as he turned the car off. “Hey. Coffee.” he murmured to him. Bill slowly opened his eye.

“…didn’t miss any high-speed collisions, did I, Pine Tree? No broken bones?” Dipper rolled his eyes, locking up the car and starting down the sidewalk.

“No.” Dipper repositioned the scarf over the demon, now just the tiny, pointy top of Bill’s head poking out. “Thought dream demons didn’t get tired.” he teased, a smile springing to his lips.

“Disappointing. And we don’t, kid. I promise you, this isn’t real.” Dipper just grinned down at him. From the perspective of passerby, it looked like he was talking to his scarf, and he got a few bizarre looks. The smell of coffee and assorted syrups greeted them as Dipper walked in. Bill muttered from under the scarf. “One of those fancy ones with the ice cream. And don’t skimp on the cavity sauce, either.”

Soon enough, the pair had situated themselves in a comfy, well-worn armchair by the window. The barista had given Dipper a strange look when he had ordered two Frappuccinos, but hadn’t questioned it. Dipper had gotten the sugariest drink on the menu, much to his own disgust. He carefully slipped the extra-long straw under the scarf, shifting it until he felt Bill’s hands grab it. Soft slurping quickly followed. The eye mouth still freaked him out, but he had to admit that this situation was sort of cute. Dipper dug into his backpack and opened his notebook, absently starting to sketch a little Bill in the corner of a page.

“You know,” Bill spoke up after a while, “I originally didn’t understand why you drink this sugar brew for fun, but it’s starting to grow on me. Though pouring it in your eyes was still more fun.” Despite his words, he looked about as blissful as a triangle could be. Lifting the scarf just a little yielded his eye closed again, both spindly hands wrapped around the straw. The slightest glimmer of sharp teeth could be seen under his eyelid. Dipper tried his hardest not to think about it too much.

“Well, you’re in a good mood because I got you your caffeine fix for the day. I’m hoping I can appeal to that good mood by asking you not to pour it in-“

“I’m also in a good mood because I’ve seen other humans do this before.” Bill replied casually. Dipper paused mid-sip, making what would technically be considered eye contact.

“You have?” He knew Bill was able to see on a multitude of dimensions, but he’d never thought that he paid attention to coffee shops. The demon shifted until he was again hidden by the scarf, and another long slurp sounded.

“Even if I hadn’t, you watch enough movies that I pick up some things. People go on dates here.” Bill said matter-of-factly. He was greeted with a bewildered look.

“Bill, you don’t care about things like that. You’re pretty perceptive, but that doesn’t mean you _care._ ” Dipper pointed out. Bill muttered under his breath.

“And Sixer may have dragged me on a few a couple of times-“ Dipper immediately cleared his throat.

“Well, okay. I don’t know where you’re going with this, but talk about Ford is officially over.” Bill made a soft noise, and Dipper was sure that, had he been in his human form at the moment, he’d have been smirking. Luckily, Bill didn’t mention his romantic affiliations with Ford again. There was a pause, and then-

“Where I’m going with this is that we do this fairly often.” He sipped the drink in between words. “Now don’t misunderstand me. This is tame in comparison to the stuff we do where I’m from. But this means something, doesn’t it?”

Dipper felt the corners of his mouth curve up again. Interesting. “I don’t know, Bill. What do you think it means?”

“Hey, I’m supposed to be the one who plays the mind games here. For the record, though, I think it means something. I just don’t think you want to tell me what that something is.” His confidence was infuriating, and Dipper was even more infuriated when he felt his chest get hot. He hated how susceptible he was to Bill’s flattery. He tried to hide his smile, but to no avail.

“Maybe. I guess you’ll never know.” Bill snorted, and Dipper felt the demon press closer against his neck.

“I guess I won’t, then.” Both of them had the tendency to be stubborn people, so no one gave in. Neither of them were irritated, though, and the silence that then followed was companionable rather than hostile. The only thing that interrupted the silence was the occasional drinking through the straw. Dipper rested his head back on the chair, closing his eyes happily. He let his mind drift off, content. One could almost ignore the straw noises.

“…Bill, you’ve been sucking for like twenty minutes now. I gotta ask, are you just drinking the ice?”

“Shut up, kid.” Bill replied cheerfully. After a second, the long-empty Frappuccino slid from Bill’s hands, gently thudding onto Dipper’s lap a lot softer than it should have. The cup glowed for a moment before somehow making its way to the table. Dipper glanced down quizzically, opening his mouth to ask him what was going on. And then he felt a sharp pinprick on his neck, gradually turning into a firm sucking.

Well. _Now_ he supposed he had hickies.

Dipper smiled to himself, bending the straw of his own drink down at an angle and dipping it under the scarf. The pressure was taken off his neck for a moment, yet another slurp sounding, and then the young man swore again as the pinpricks returned. Bill hummed cheerfully.

He could get used to this.

 

 


End file.
